


Just a Day

by unfolded73



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Fluff, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:15:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21633514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unfolded73/pseuds/unfolded73
Summary: David and Rachel run into each other and talk.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 56
Kudos: 410





	Just a Day

David was focused on cookie ingredients with single-minded determination.

Clutching the hand-written list from Marcy, he squinted at the shelf in Patrick’s home-town grocery store (the store where a tiny Patrick had once thrown a screaming tantrum over being denied Froot Loops, if Clint was to be believed), looking for his prey. Spotting the brown sugar, David threw two bags into his cart and moved on to the confectioner’s sugar.

He didn’t have a pen on him, so he tried to mentally check off each item as he put it in the cart. He didn’t want to forget anything for today’s Christmas cookie-baking extravaganza, a Brewer family tradition that David would be participating in for the first time. Rose Apothecary safely in the hands of their two employees for the week, David and Patrick were taking their first Christmas off since they opened the store. Thus, here David was on a quest from his mother-in-law, shopping in an unfamiliar store for cookie ingredients. 

David zeroed in on the holiday-themed sprinkles next. (“Just get more red, I have plenty of green,” Marcy had said and then immediately widened her eyes at him in a slightly panicked expression, “unless we should get some Hanukkah colors, David?”) He was so engrossed in the sprinkle options that he didn’t notice the woman staring at him from further down the aisle at first. It wasn’t until he turned to head back to the dairy case that he came face-to-face with the familiar redhead.

Without saying anything, they took each other in. He’d never spoken a word to Rachel, but he recognized her immediately from that one awful afternoon his family tried to have a barbeque to celebrate his relationship with Patrick, and later, pictures of Patrick and Rachel together that peppered the Brewers’ family photo albums. She seemed to recognize him as well, despite the brief time they’d had to take each other in. 

“Marcy’s making cookies?” Rachel asked with a smirk and a gesture to his cart, as if they weren’t total strangers who only shared in common that one moment, when David learned Patrick was once engaged and Rachel learned that Patrick was gay. As if they’d already gotten the uncomfortable acknowledgements of who they were to each other out of the way.

David nodded. “Yes, she has a _very_ ambitious list of cookie recipes.” 

“Don’t underestimate her; she plans her baking like she’s planning a major military operation.” Because of course Rachel had shared some of these holiday traditions with the Brewers, how could she not have? All of these things that David was attempting to navigate on his absolute best behavior, trying to be the perfect husband and son-in-law, Rachel had already done. For just a second, he hated her for that.

“I have no doubt,” he said.

“Congrats on the…” Rachel gestured vaguely. “I heard you guys got married. And I saw some pictures on Facebook.”

David wrinkled his nose at that — not that she had seen pictures, but that there were apparently pictures from his wedding on Facebook. Probably posted by Marcy herself, if he had to guess, or maybe by one of the cousins. David had carefully edited the pictures he’d chosen to post on his own Instagram and had policed what Alexis posted as well; he hated to think what he might look like in these rogue Facebook pictures he hadn’t been aware of.

“We did, thank you,” he said. He tried to think of what else to say, but everything that occurred to him sounded patronizing. 

“You don’t have to look so constipated, David. I’m over him. I moved to Toronto and I’m seeing someone else now.”

“I don’t look…” David sputtered before reining himself in. “I mean, I’m glad. That sounds… nice.”

She laughed. “Yeah, I guess it’s nice. How’s Patrick?”

 _Perfect. He’s a perfect husband and I can’t believe how lucky I am that we found each other._ “He’s good.”

“He’s probably been grumpy over hockey lately, huh?”

He had been, because the Maple Leafs had a very bad start to the season (and the fact that David knew even that much was miraculous), but he hated that Rachel was right. “Is that the sport with the sticks?” he said, falling back on his I-don’t-follow-sports persona. Rachel rolled her eyes at him.

There was a part of David that wanted to sit Rachel down and split a bottle of wine (or two) with her and learn everything about Patrick that she knew and he didn’t. All the things that came out of that shared history they had together that David could only know from stories. But there was another part of David that rejected the very premise. The Patrick that Rachel had known wasn’t the real Patrick. 

He started to wheel his cart forward again, slowly and with a tilt of his head to indicate she should walk with him. “So you’re in town visiting your family, I presume?” he asked her.

“Yeah. First time bringing the boyfriend home to meet my family, so that’s a whole thing. But we’re just doing the normal Christmas thing, you know. ” 

He didn’t know, as neither his experiences with Christmas when the Roses were still rich nor his experiences in Schitt’s Creek fit into the rubric of ‘normal Christmas,’ but he assumed whatever Rachel was talking about fit into the same basic mold as his last couple of days with the Brewers. David nodded.

“This is the first Christmas we’ve been able to get away,” David volunteered. “We finally have enough staff to cover the store.” Then it occurred to him that Rachel might not know anything about the store if she hadn’t talked to Patrick since her one tragic visit to Schitt’s Creek. “We run the general store in town? We sell—”

“I know,” she said, and then averted her eyes to the rows of egg cartons they were passing, which made David stop and look at his list. He needed eggs. 

“I follow you guys on Instagram. The store, I mean. I follow the store. I was just… curious what Patrick was doing for a living. And the pictures you post are pretty and sort of… soothing? So I still follow the account.”

David beamed at that as he picked up a carton of eggs and put them in his basket — he worked hard on the Instagram aesthetic for the store, an activity that Patrick occasionally roasted him for. He couldn’t wait to tell him that Rachel followed the Rose Apothecary account because she found it soothing.

Rachel reached over and picked up David’s eggs and opened the carton, scanning the contents. “You have to check and see if any are broken,” she explained. “Also, are twelve eggs enough?”

He threw up his hands. “The list doesn’t say — what do you think, should i get another dozen?”

“Yeah, get another dozen.”

He grabbed a carton, opening it and scanning the eggs for breaks the way Rachel had. “We’ve started carrying local eggs at the store,” he told her. “I didn’t want to at first, but we have a farmer who delivers them to us, and the markup on eggs is better than I thought it would be.”

“I’m glad Patrick’s happy,” Rachel said. “I know you probably don’t believe me, but—”

“In the years I’ve known him, Patrick’s never said a bad word about you, so I have no reason not to believe that you wish him the best.” He checked his list again. “I need to get butter. Marcy did put an amount here,” he said, showing Rachel the list, “but it seems patently ridiculous.”

Rachel laughed. “Four pounds? No, that’s probably right.”

“I’m going to gain so much weight on this trip,” David groaned, moving his cart again.

“Thank you for saying that, about Patrick not speaking ill of me. I worried for a while after that terrible visit to Schitt’s Creek that I’d fucked up his relationship. Especially when a long time went by and his parents didn’t seem to know anything about you guys being a couple.”

David made a weird half-laughing, half-groaning noise. “That’s a whole other long story. But no, you didn’t fuck anything up.” He began loading butter into his cart. “I almost fucked everything up by being an insecure ass about it.”

“He probably should have told you about his past, though,” Rachel said, grabbing a pound of butter for her own cart.

“Yes, well, it’s all ancient history now.” He headed toward the milk and grabbed a gallon. 

“Did he ever tell you what he told me about you that day?” Rachel asked, and despite it all being in the past, David’s heart sped up, his palms getting sweaty on the grocery cart handle. 

“I don’t remember. I never asked,” David said, rooted there in the dairy section, next to the half and half and the whipping cream.

“This was after he told me you guys were dating, and he gave me his official coming-out speech, I guess. And I shouted at him for not telling me before, and he said he hadn’t realized, and…” She waved her hand to dismiss that memory. “It was very hard to hear, that he’d never felt for me what I felt for him in all those years.”

“I’m sorry,” David said.

“That’s not the part I wanted to tell you. The part I wanted to tell you was that he said he’d fallen in love with you, that already he was imagining spending the rest of his life with you, even though he knew it was too soon to tell you any of that yet.” She smiled. “Since you’re married now I guess the cat is out of the bag, but still, I wanted to tell you how all-in Patrick was, even back then.”

David felt himself tearing up, and he did not want to cry in the dairy case of this grocery store, but it was a lot, hearing that. That Patrick had said he was _in love_ with him, even back then, months before ‘I love you’ became a regular part of their vocabulary. “Thank you for telling me,” he whispered.

“I was horribly jealous of you and I hated you for a while,” Rachel said. “Sorry.”

David scoffed at that. “Oh, don’t worry about that, I’ve been hated by a lot of people in my life.”

“And for the record, you seem to be taking good care of him. I stopped hating you.”

David smirked, turning his cart back toward the baking aisle to get the chocolate chips he’d forgotten. “He takes care of me most of the time.”

“Okay, well, I’m going that way,” Rachel said, pointing over to another part of the store. “It was good to see you, David.” 

“You too, Rachel. Merry Christmas.”

~*~

“Hey, do you need _mfph_ —” David interrupted Patrick’s greeting with a kiss, a tote bag in each hand not stopping him from wrapping his arms around his husband and fusing their mouths together. As he pulled away, he saw Marcy glancing at them and smiling before she turned back to the dishes she was washing.

“Yes, I need some help bringing in the groceries,” David said.

‘Okay,” Patrick said mildly, but his eyes said he knew something was up with his husband. David set the totes he was carrying down on the kitchen table and then followed Patrick out to the car.

“Everything okay, David?” Patrick asked as soon as they were out of earshot from his mother.

“Yeah.” But then he stopped and faced Patrick as they stood at the trunk of the car. “Have I ever told you when I realized I might be in love with you?”

Patrick grinned. “I think you told me it was when I sang to you at our first open mic night.”

David put his hands on Patrick’s shoulders, his fingers working gently at the muscles underneath his sweater. “Okay, that was probably when I fell _totally_ and _completely_ in love with you. But there was another moment, before that.”

Patrick wrapped his arms around David’s waist. “Oh yeah?”

“Mm hmm.”

Patrick kissed him gently, just a soft peck of lips on lips. “When was that?”

“It was just a normal day at the store. You’d been helping Alexis study for a test and we had to stay late to do inventory, but I just remember looking over at you and thinking that I was falling in love with you. And then being really freaked out by that thought.”

“I wish I could remember the day you’re talking about,” Patrick said wistfully. 

“It was just a day.” David gave him another kiss before disengaging from Patrick and grabbing two more bags to carry into the house. “You should call Rachel,” he blurted. 

Patrick shot him a confused look. “I should what?”

“You’ve known each other your whole lives. It just seems a shame to throw that friendship away because—”

“Because I broke her heart?” Patrick said, holding the door open for David.

“She’s over it,” David said, setting the rest of his bags down. On Patrick’s raised eyebrow, he explained. “I saw her at the grocery store. She’s got a boyfriend from Toronto in town with her, apparently. Anyway, I think it would be good for you two to be friends again. ”

Patrick seemed to consider this. “Okay, I’ll call her. Maybe the four of us could go for drinks or something.”

“David, thank you so much for doing the shopping,” Marcy was saying as she unpacked and organized his haul. “Are you ready to learn to bake cookies?”

“Marcy, are _you_ ready for the havoc I’m likely to wreak in your kitchen?”

She gave him a gentle slap on the arm. “I think I can keep you in line, David. Now let me show you how to use the electric mixer.”

David spent the next couple of hours laboring away with Marcy while Patrick went to play hockey with some of his cousins and Clint read a book by the fire. And there was a moment, later, when it struck him. He was chewing on a ginger cookie that he had made with his own hands in the warm embrace of his mother-in-law’s kitchen when his husband came in the front door, scarf secured around his neck and ruddy-cheeked from the cold, and David thought, _I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my life_. It wasn’t a scary thought. It didn’t portend doom they way he used to think that his rare optimistic thoughts did. Today was just a day in a long line of days with the love of his life, stretched out into the future. David brought Patrick a cookie and kissed him on the cheek and smiled.


End file.
